Not everything stops,
memories persist
the past remains in stasis much like we do
and we rake over the mistakes
with layers of the same.
I can’t remember everything that makes me cry,
all the same we’re alive if not living
even though the memories are not
and neither is she
my Ulysses.
I can’t be sentimental if I can’t remember it,
but I got nothing but time to try.
r.l.w
NaPoWriMo – Day One